


Help Myself

by tomatopudding



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 14:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatopudding/pseuds/tomatopudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Owen need to get home, but they need help from Jack's past self in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help Myself

He spotted the twins before they saw him. Human, or at least humanoid; sleek black hair -- one in a high ponytail, the other in a smooth sheet down to her shoulders; matching dark-wash skinny jeans tucked into high heeled boots, one pair black one pair brown; simple leather jackets, black and brown respectively. Their heart-shaped faces were sweet, but the pale green eyes sparkled with mischief that fit with the smirking smiles on matching red-painted lips.

Owen threw back the last of his drink and signaled the barman, indicating that the twins’ next round was on him. Thankfully, bars hadn’t changed much since the 21st Century and Owen figured that he should make the most of his time trapped in the future if he could.

According to Jack, his younger self -- still a Time Agent -- would be passing through this bar at some point soon. Jack couldn’t talk to his younger self, crossing time lines or something like that, but Owen had Jack’s -- his Jack -- Vortex Manipulator wrapped around his wrist. He had to get Time Agent Jack to fix it so that Captain Jack could get them home. It was all getting mixed up in his head thanks to the Jack Daniels -- or something that tasted remarkably like it -- that he was drinking. He was waiting for Jack on Jack’s orders while drinking Jack. Owen managed not to giggle at himself, focusing his mirth into a grin at the twins who had now taken notice of him thanks to the newest drinks they held.

Before he could act upon the message in the twins’ matching smoldering gazes and come-hither smirks, Owen saw Jack walk in. If he had had any doubt before about Jack and where he came from, they were now quashed. He looked slightly younger, but not by a lot, and there was a sparkle in his eyes not yet dimmed form death.

It was just his luck that Jack came and sat beside him at the bar and ordered some mixed drink.

Following his Captain’s instructions, Owen laid his arm out on the bar, allowing the Vortex Manipulator to slip out of his sleeve.

‘Who sent you?’

Owen glanced over at Time Agent Jack, who sipped his neon blue drink absently. Owen replied with the name Jack had told him, working not to fumble the unfamiliar syllables.

Jack stiffened, ‘I didn’t ask you my name, I asked who sent you.’

Owen didn’t answer, instead moving his gaze to the twins. They were gone, having lost interest when he didn’t make good on the promise.

Sensing that Owen wasn’t going to answer him -- although, now that Owen thought about it, he had answered the question -- Time Agent Jack’s eyebrows drew together as he hid a frown by taking another drink.

‘What do you need?’

‘Repair.’

Owen lifted the arm with the Vortex Manipulator slightly. Jack smirked, not unkindly.

‘Made a long jump, did ya?’

Owen let his silence speak for itself.

‘Rookie mistake,’ Jack continued glibly, ‘Although, if you had been on assignment the Agency would fix it up no problem.’

Once again, Owen remained silent, allowing Jack to make his inferences. 

‘The best nanotechnician doesn’t come cheap, you know,’ Jack told him, finishing of the drink and signaling for another, ‘He’s gonna want a nice stack of credits. Although,’ he leered at Owen, appraising him with bright blue eyes, ‘I’m sure you and I could work out a deal.’

Owen heard enough stories from Tea Boy about what he and the Captain got up to in their spare time and didn’t really want to experience it first hand. For being so uptight and put together, Ianto sure had some kinky tales to tell.

‘I’ll get the money.’

Jack seemed disappointed, but shrugged it off, taking a sip of his new drink -- a radioactive green this time. Owen drew a small notepad from his pocket and placed it along with a pen on the bar.

‘Retro,’ Jack complimented, ‘I like it.’ He scribbled something down.

‘Tomorrow,’ Jack instructed, throwing back the second half of his drink, ‘Four o’ clock sharp.’

By the time Owen tucked the notebook and pen back into his pocket, the Time Agent Jack was gone.

__________

Owen arrived at the appointed time and place, his pocket heavy with credit chips. It was very 21st Century, just a dilapidated shack with the windows all boarded up. Time Agent Jack was waiting outside the place, one foot propped on a large metal pipe, smoking what appeared to be a normal cigarette, although Owen had no way of knowing what it was actually made of.

‘Punctual,’ Jack said, throwing down the butt of his smoke and crushing it with one heel, giving Owen a leering grin, ‘I like it.’

‘Oi, I already told you no, so no funny business.’

Jack shrugged, still grinning. When Owen stopped before him, arms crossed, Jack extended an expectant hand. Owen removed the credits from his pocket and Jack swiped a certain amount from the top that disappeared into his own pocket.

‘Rest goes inside.’

Owen gave him a wary look, but entered the shack. Inside it was dimly lit and it took Owen’s eyes a few moments to adjust. He didn’t recognize the alien that was within. It was vaguely humanoid with definite insect qualities and extremely large eyes that led Owen to believe that the dark interior of the hovel was as bright for it as the sunlight outside was for him. When the alien spoke, its words were punctuated with sharp clicks and whistles.

‘Where are the credits?’

Owen handed them over and waited for them to be counted.

‘Where is the device?’

When Owen removed it from his wrist, Jack leaned over his shoulder to look, his body extremely close behind Owen, almost pressed up against him. It reminded Owen of his first lessons at the Torchwood firing range, except where the lessons had clearly been merely lessons -- albeit unconventional ones -- this was quite obviously more sexual. Owen resisted rolling his eyes, but only just.

Jack let out a low whistle, ‘Old model. They stopped using those after my class graduated the academy. By the look of it, this thing is at least twenty years old.’

Well, Owen thought to himself, ff you didn’t keep dying in horrific ways, maybe there’d be a little less wear and tear.

‘For extra 200,’ clicked the repairman, ‘I get you new one. Take three days.’

‘Just fix it.’

A few hours and several more sexual advances from Jack later, Owen was wrapping the Manipulator around his skinny wrist and walking out the door.

__________

He followed the scrawny man through the streets, carefully maneuvering himself so as not to be seen. either he was doing a better job sneaking than he though, or Scrawny was just very unobservant.

He was surprised when Scrawny passed the Time Agency headquarters without sparing it a glance and went instead to a hotel on the outskirts of town. He activated the short term tracker he had planted on Scrawny’s Vortex Manipulator. A few minutes later, he found himself several floors off the ground, perched by one of the windows. It wasn’t a particularly insular window and he could hear everything that was said.

He chanced a glance in. Scrawny was facing a man in a big blue-gray coat who had his back to the window. Scrawny took off the Vortex Manipulator and gave it to Coat.

‘You so owe me,’ Scrawny mumbled -- what was the accent? Old English London maybe -- ‘Worse than Hart.’

Coat laughed and it struck a chord of familiarity in his ears.

‘Used to be even worse than that.’

‘Becoming more sedentary in you old age,’ Scrawny said with a teasing note to his voice.

Coat smacked Scrawny’s arm in a brotherly fashion. ‘Right then, my cheeky Doctor Harper, let’s go home.’

‘First thing I’m doing when we get there is taking a shower,’ Scrawny informed his companion, ‘Need to get the smarmy off of me.’

‘See if I take you anywhere ever again,’ Coat shot back primly, ‘Hold on tight.’

Coat turned slightly so Scrawny could put a hand on the Vortex Manipulator. A few buttons later and they disappeared, leaving the crackling smell of Vortex energy behind them.

He had to stop himself from letting go of the window in shock. When Coat had turned, the Time Agent could have sworn that he saw a flash of his own face.


End file.
